


Riding Bitch

by Infie



Series: On The Road [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infie/pseuds/Infie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver sets up a day out, and Felicity draws the line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riding Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> For Lademonessa, because she asked. Well. Demanded, really. :)

“So, what do you want to do today?” Felicity leaned over the side of the bed to drop a kiss on the corner of Oliver’s mouth as he sat down to put on some socks. 

“I have a little surprise, actually.” He grinned up at her, no shadows in his eyes and pure mischief in his smile. “I set something up, it’s waiting for us downstairs.” He looked her over, taking in the light sundress that she’d pulled on. “You’ll need to change though. Jeans and a shirt, boots. Something that can go under leather.” 

“Oh, leather is it?” She stepped closer, pushing him back enough to kneel over him on the bed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and straddling his lap. She kissed him, and immediately he was responding, curling his fingers around her hips and holding her close. 

“I always knew you liked the leather,” he whispered when she let him up for air. 

She hummed agreement and stood up. He caught her arm long enough to drag her back for another kiss before standing himself and heading for his duffle. She yanked the dress back off over her head and smiled at his muffled groan, but pulled out her jeans and tugged them on. 

Waiting for them downstairs was a gleaming red and black Suzuki VStrom motorcycle, all lean and spare, lacking the muscular bulk of the Ducati that Oliver favoured at home. Sleek and powerful, it looked like it was barely restraining itself from taking off right without them. 

Felicity stopped dead. 

Oliver strode over and opened one of the small side-panniers, pulling out a matching red and black leather jacket and replacing it with the bag with their lunch inside. A second jacket was drawn from the other and he put their bottles of water inside. He gave her one of the helmets and a handful of red and black leather. A couple of quick motions had him suited up, then he swung his leg over the bike and turned the key. 

She gave a tiny sound of protest and he immediately stopped, turning to face her head on. 

“What is it? You don’t like it?” 

“It’s a beautiful bike,” she said immediately, wanting to get rid of that worried look on his face. 

His face softened. “I thought it might be a nice way to spend the day, just exploring the region. There are such great roads here, and it’s a way for us to do that and still be wrapped around each other.” 

He said it so openly, it made her heart lurch a little in her chest. God, she loved him. She had to close her eyes for a second to just let it flow through her. When she opened them, the worry was back on his face. 

“But, we don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I just realized, you never rode with me back home. If you’re afraid…” 

“Ok, stop.” She held up the hand that wasn’t holding her helmet to forestall the rest of his words and obediently he closed his mouth. “I’m not afraid of motorcycles. I love machines. I love bikes. I love the idea of spending the day riding wrapped around each other, especially on that gorgeous thing. But Oliver,” she looked him dead in the eyes. “I do not ride _bitch_.” 

He blinked at her once, twice, and then burst out laughing. It was a real laugh, the kind she almost never heard from him, and it brought a huge smile to her face. He clicked the key back off and dismounted, still chuckling. 

“By all means,” he waved his hand in invitation. She grinned at him and pulled on her jacket. It fit a little bit big through the shoulders and tight through the chest but it smelled fantastic and she tugged it into position with glee. She handed Oliver her helmet and slung a leg over the bike, bringing it upright with practiced skill. Unhesitatingly Oliver mounted behind her, leaning back to give her a little room as she turned the key and kicked the bike into rumbling life. She pulled her hair back a little and put on the helmet, which fit like it had been made for her. Movement behind her signalled Oliver doing the same, and then he slid forward until he was plastered against her back, his thighs pressing against the back of hers all the way to her knees. His arms slid around her waist, one hand stopping on her ribs just under her breast and the other a firm, pleasant pressure on her abdomen. The bike was vibrating and growling between their legs like a live thing. 

He leaned his helmet against hers. “I like riding bitch with you,” he said loudly, so that she could hear. 

“Oliver,” she replied, “Hold on to me tight.” 

He laughed again with delight and tightened his arms, leaning forward in perfect synchrony with her as she hit the throttle and geared up. The bike leaped forward eagerly and she laughed too. 

This was going to be a great day. 

-30-


End file.
